Troubled Souls
by Rosalione
Summary: A one shot or short multi chapter story that gives a gimpse of what went on under the surface of Syrenne and Lowell. Before they started growing closer...
1. Chapter 1

**Authors notes: **I listened to a old favourite song of mine and this idea came to me. I have not decided if it will be more than a one shot, but I've always been fascinated by what lies behind Syrenne and Lowell's behaviour. And their background which have formed their strong personalities and stormy relationship :)

**Disclaimer:** Mistwalker owns The Last Story and all characters. I own nothing nor do I make any money on this story. I own this plot and any OC characters that may appear.

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_Baby I'm still in love with…  
Everything I hate  
Everything you do  
Everything I fear  
Everything on you_

I'm in love with… Everything you are

''Everything''  
By: Anna Vissi.

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**Everything I hate.**

Syrenne's eyebrow twitched once when seeing Lowell walk towards the bar. Twice when he starting his usual pick up lines and trice when his target responded. Her fingers tightened around her tankard when observing the pair standing only a few feet away. All the bustling sounds of Ariela's tavern seemed to fade as a set of angry forest green eyes followed her companion's deliberate movements.

''If you aren't careful your face might get stuck like that.'' a voice interrupted her unhealthy stalking behaviour.

''Oh, yeah? Well, who bloody cares!'' Syrenne barked back, raising the tankard to her lips, emptying its contents in a few gulps.

A tired sigh passing Dagran's lips was her only reply. She knew he only tried to keep her mind off things surrounding Lowell, but for some reason she could not help herself. She waved for Ariela to serve her another drink.

''That won't help either, I hope you are aware of that.'' Dagran observed her from his usual spot by the door. ''Drinking will only make you feel more miserable.''

''I haven't the damnedest idea what you're talking about...'' Syrenne sourly ignored him, letting her eyes fall back to her own table. Barely containing the reflex of flinching when hearing the Tsk sound that came behind her.

''I see you're still trying to find happiness at bottom of a pint, love.'' Lowell's husky voice crept down her spine, but she refused to look at him. ''If I had not been otherwise preoccupied, I'd love to show you a good time, but you know where to find me if you have a change of heart.''

Dagran muttered and face palmed at his companion's remark. He knew Lowell to be many things, but stupid was not amongst them. How these two could go on like they did was beyond him. It was clear as the sky was blue that they had feelings for each other. Though both had different reasons as to why they did not act on them.

''If I'd wanted to catch something contagious, I'd rather walk into the poor house, that way I needn't see such a sorry excuse of a man as yourself.'' Syrenne fixed him a cold look over her shoulder, her eyes narrowing at the trollop behind him. ''Go on yer merry way, you're ruining a perfectly good drink.''

The dual sword wielding mercenary's posture changed for each creak the stairs made. Her once proud and strong posture sagged for each step the pair took towards the bedroom. When the door closed accompanied by a husky moan, her facade cracked. She emptied her tankard in a few gulps while standing up. She stomped over to the bar only to snatch up a bottle of wine and paying what she owed.

''You don't need more of that, Syrenne.'' Mirania softly grabbed hold of the bottle, taking it from her friend's lips. ''Dagran is right, this will not help you!''

''Don't tell me what to do, I'm a grown woman who can do whatever I want!'' Syrenne's hand shot out, retaking the bottle before her friend could even blink. She clumsily side stepped while working on emptying it. Her usual cat like grace was absent, being dulled by the alcohol.

''That's enough!'' ordered Dagran harshly. He gave Ariela a apologetic look before forcefully removing the bottle. It crashed to the floor, scattering glass shards and wine residues on the wooden floor. His hand shot out and clasped around her wrist in a iron grip. ''You are making a fool of yourself and the rest of us. You're coming with me and not a damn word in protest, have I made myself clear?''

Syrenne's eyes widened when looking into her leader's eyes. She had thought to find anger in his hazel gaze, but found instead compassion. All she could do was to nod her head and allowing herself to be taken to the back room. Her movements clumsy and unsteady.

''Sit before you fall on your face.'' said Dagran while guiding her to a empty chair by the window. He sad down on the bed, just watching her for a few moments. ''This has to stop and you know it. I'm not one to interfere in personal affairs, but this has started to affect the whole group. Either you do something about the situation or let it be. I can't afford to let this be. During jobs it has started to be unbearable and I can't risk the safety of others because of your and Lowell's issues.

''There are no bloody issues between me and Lowell!'' snarled Syrenne fixing her gaze on her friend. Her eyes once more softened when seeing the odd look of compassion in his eyes. It was so strange seeing it there because the emotion that mostly lived there was determination. ''Don't look at me like that, mate...''

''If there are no issues then I expect you to behave impeccable starting tomorrow.'' he said calmly, giving her a pointed look.

Syrenne averted her gaze in shame. She hated her confused feelings towards Lowell and she hated herself for burdening her friends. The look of compassion in Dagran's eyes moments before had been filled with both sadness and understanding. The look was much prettier than his usual determination and fierceness. Lowell was her complete opposite in many ways, and in some ways he was her equal. From the first time she had met him and up until this very day: he had a way to creep under her skin.

Dagran on the other hand was cold while Lowell was warm. Both were good men but the complete opposite. Where her leader was closed and reserved, Lowell was open and friendly. Dagran was quick, decisive and thorough and his fierce aura demanded respect, which he also received. Lowell was a joker, gambler and easy going. Even though her leader possessed more qualities she preferred, her treacherous heart was drawn towards the ice mage. _Why in the bloody hell can't I fall for a guy like him? Why must it be a man I hate for several reasons..._

The mere thought of Lowell being upstairs between the thighs of that trollop was too much. She hated him for being the way he is. The way he always went from woman to woman, never once caring for their feelings, but at the same time always remained a thorn in her side. She also hated that he was a good friend despite all his bad habits. She hated that he was an excellent fighter, which meant she had to respect him in some regards. She feared her feelings for him which lead to hating him more because he was the reason her feelings existed in the first place.

A sound from upstairs awoke her from her depressing thoughts. It was a woman's cry, a desperate cry filled with passion. It filled Syrenne with both disgust and a longing as well as a deep sadness. For she knew what and who had coaxed forth such a sound. She lifted her gaze which once again landed on Dagran. Desperation and a need to fill a void filled her as she closed the space between them.

Her lips found his, and she ignored how he stiffened against her soft curves. One of her hands yanked his head back by fisting his dark locks. Her free hand pushed its way into his pants, her fingertips briefly coming into contact with the price she sought before being stopped by him. Syrenne groaned in frustration against his unmoving lips, trying with everything she had to coax a response from him.

''Why?...Why won't you do anything...'' Syrenne whispered with her head resting on his shoulder. The only sound she seemed to hear was the beating of her heart and his calm breathing. Tears welled in her eyes which she refused to shed as shame washed over her. She had tried to use a friend to get her to forget.

''Because I made a promise a long time ago...'' Dagran answered calmly in a hollow voice as he gently untangled himself from her. He cupped her chin, forcing her to look at him. ''And I want to you keep an open mind toward your non ''issues''. All is not as it seems and you should not give up so easily.''

Before she could answer he placed a hand on the small of her back, leading her towards the door. He opened it slightly, gesturing for her to follow his pointing finger. At the end of the room sat Lowell. He looked dishevelled and was steadily nursing a drink. His eyes were almost hollow, but his aura oozed of depression.

''That is not a look a man should be wearing, after indulging in passion in the arms of a woman...'' Mirania's softly spoke and slipped though the opening in the door. Her warm hand finding it's way to Syrenne's shoulder. ''You are too quick to judge a book by it's cover.''

''I'll leave her in your capable hands...'' said Dagran warmly while smiling at Mirania. ''I need to keep an eye on another.''

''I'll take it from here.'' Mirania said confidently and warmly. Her eyes twinkling with gratitude and mischief. ''Taking a bath is a wonderful way to sober up or so I've heard...''

Syrenne grabbed hold of his hand, squeezing it gently before he left. Their eyes met and he merely mouthed ''you're welcome'' before confidently striding towards the end of the tavern. When seeing the tired but grateful look on Lowell's face as Dagran joined him made her see the truth. Lowell was hurting and his behaviour was a mere mask to hide behind. He drowned his troubles in liquor and women. Seeing a glimpse of the real him in the shadows made her realize she loved everything about him, despite hating what he portrayed himself to be.

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**Would anyone be interested in more, maybe Lowell's side?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors notes: **I'm glad to present this long struggle of a chapter. I can't say me and Lowell have been buddies through the writing process. I so do prefer his lighter side, but I'm happy I did it and I'm also happy with the results, and I hope you'll enjoy it too :)

Thank you for reviewing this story of mine, it means a lot that someone enjoys what I write.

Oh, and I'm sorry if this chapter looks odd, or contains more errors than usual. I'm playing around with newly learned grammar and writing tricks, so it takes a while before I get the hang of it :P

**Disclaimer:** Mistwalker owns The Last Story and all characters. I own nothing, nor do I make any money on this story. I own this plot and any OC characters that may appear.

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_Heart, I feel distress in my heart  
But I have gone to hell for a smile  
I hear voices from the past  
Time, I only need more time_

Remember all my past time  
When the future is waiting for me  
I am lying on this ground among memories  
Can the ocean of time claim to own me?  
To own me?

_''Memories''  
By: Dark Moor._

**Between Memories and Future.**

Lowell grimaced when he stretched, feeling the aching scratch-marks adoring his back. The woman who put them there had already disappeared back to wherever she came from. The moments of passion was like always, a small respite from his misery. It was also a reminder of what he could not live without, but also what he condemned himself to never again have.

He muffled his own emotions by drowning them, along with his sorrows with alcohol. It was his only refuge after allowing himself to feel for a few precious, but stolen moments together with a stranger. In him burned a desire so strong that it had to subdued. It could not be erased nor could he ignore it, but it could be controlled. To foolishly allow himself to live in a lie for a few moments, absorbing the feelings it brought, then only to mercilessly drown the yearning which had awakened.

''You outdid yourself this time,'' Dagran's voice interrupted his moment of dark contemplation. ''One day you'll succeed in getting her to really hate you...''

''That would be for the best,'' the ice mage replied, taking yet another swing of his drink. ''that way she'd stay safe forever...''

''Syrenne, safe? You must be more drunk than I thought,'' the other man replied sitting down. ''She is more than capable of taking care of herself, and if she were to die – the cause would not be a superstitious one.''

All Lowell could do was to give his best friend a grateful smile. His friendship and support have always had good effect on him. He took another swing of his ale, as the two female mercenaries closed the door to their bedroom upstairs. ''She is rather special, isn't she?'' he murmured softly.

''One of a kind I'd wager,'' Dagran returned the smile before his hand found it's way to his friend's shoulder. ''last time you told me about the attack which killed Amanda, but you told me there was more?''

Sadness quickly clouded Lowell's blue eyes, which was followed by a defeated sigh, ''Does nothing ever get lost inside that mind of yours?''

''Of course it does, but not things I consider interesting or important,'' came the cocky reply from the mercenary leader. His eyebrow curved upwards in a perfect arch, as he challenged his friend's observing gaze.

A calm settled over the weary ice mage, as words spilled from his lips. Dagran fell into the role of the great listener, never once interrupting. In his hazel eyes read companionship and understanding, something which Lowell felt immensely grateful for. He removed the tight lock around his memories, and let himself take a stroll back into the past.

After having lost his sweet Amanda to bandits, which he took revenge upon. He once again left for the road. He soon found himself in the lands of the north, where the vast empire greeted him. It had not taken long before he had found a job as a city guard in a medium sized town, and yet another woman crossed his path. The lovely Kassie, with her strong faith and sunny disposition. She had a way of talking a person into agreeing to all kinds of things. He still remembered her grey blue eyes, and how they lit with fierce determination when facing a challenge. In this case, the challenge itself was to win Lowell's heart: failure was never an option to her.

With his pain of loosing Amanda still fresh in mind, Lowell fought the attraction between them. But Kassie did not give up that easily. She was the daughter of the captain of the guards, so it was easy for her to arrange for him being positioned in a way that gave her easy access to him. It did not take long before they became a couple. They seemed to be made for each other, well matched in every possible way, and their time together was like heaven on earth. Just when they had reached the point that all couples eventually reach: where you want to make a life long commitment to each other. Fate once again came in between and crushed those plans.

Sickness visited their town and many fell to it: elderly, children, men and women. No one seemed to avoid it, but a lucky few. The town doctor had never seen this particular illness before, so he could not treat it properly. Kassie was one of the last people to get infected. It happened just after her father had succumbed to the fever the sickness brought. Not only had Lowell lost his friend, Kassie's father, but he also lost his love. She had fought bravely against it, and even being experimented on: with odd concoctions that did more harm than good. It was for naught, in the end: she died crying in his arms, begging for his forgiveness. She grieved not for herself, but for being too weak to do hold on. She hated herself for leaving him behind – for him to once more lose someone he loved.

He didn't even give up hope after loosing two loves of his life. He kept going, and he never faltered when trying fit in somewhere, or with someone. That hope did however diminish over time, as more death followed him wherever he went. Fear ended up replacing that hope, which was the explanation to his behaviour. He was terrified of getting close to someone again, because he feared death would come for them too. All he allowed himself was a quick, and brief relation with women. The sweet thrill of flirting and chasing skirts, which always ended when he got what he wanted.

Dagran sat silently and watched, as Lowell emptied his drink. His mind trying to puzzle together the reason for his friend's behaviour. He couldn't find anything in that sad tale, that implicated fault on Lowell's behalf. Since no words of comfort could get through his stubborn companion's mind, he decided on another strategy, ''Is that all? Many people die all the time...'' a chuckle left his smirking lips.

At first all Lowell could do was to stare, and clench his hand harder around his tankard. Anger soon began to boil underneath his controlled facade. How dare Dagran sit there and laugh, and ridicule his past, ''You think it's fun that women always die around me!?''

''It's a sad waste of women, if you ask me,'' Dagran managed to get out between laughter.

A dark look came over Lowell's face, and he crushed the tankard between his fingers, ''How dare you laugh at their deaths? They weren't just numbers in some statistics, they were people who mattered to me. People I would have gladly given my life for; however, I wasn't able to stop them from dying. I couldn't do anything for them!''

''Ah, now you've finally come to terms with it, my friend.'' said Dagran warmly, and all traces of mirth disappeared from his face. His eyes went from Lowell's shocked face, and over to Ariela's questioning ones, ''Oi! We need another round, Ariela.''

Realization washed over Lowell: like a bucket of cold water getting dumped on his head. With it came relief, which immediately chased away the anger he had felt towards his friend. Dagran had forced him to see the truth – that it was not his fault. ''You're one creepy bloke, you know that?'' he murmured softly, as a small smile formed on his lips.

''I prefer perceptive, thank you very much,'' Dagran grinned back, as he handed over the new drinks. ''Drink tonight for your past, and tomorrow you start anew.''

Lowell gratefully accepted the two tankards, and the silent respite that Dagran bestowed onto him. It did not come as a surprise when the mercenary leader moved to stand up. He had after all always been a private man; thus, also respected other's need for privacy, ''Thank you, mate.''

''Thank me when you feel better,'' Dagran replied in a hollow tone. ''Its not an easy road ahead. You will never forget them, but you have a reason to keep looking forward instead of backwards.''

Lowell merely nodded his head, and stretched out his hand toward his companion: who in return clasped his hand firmly in his. He had known Dagran for many years, but never knew him to be familiar with the matters of the heart. Several question's swirled inside his curious mind, but the sad look in his friend's eyes, stopped him from asking. Something told him that underneath Dagran's controlled demeanour lay a well kept tale which was guarded closely by a wounded heart.

The ice mage watched as his leader disappear out of the nosy tavern: all the while nursing his new drink. It may have been the alcohol's fault, but he suddenly felt free. Like something heavy had been lifted from his shoulders. He would carry his memories with him, along with his sadness, but he owed it to himself to live his life to the fullest.

His heart skipped a beat when Syrenne came waltzing down the stairs. Even though her face was set in a nasty scowl, and her eyes glared daggers all around – he still thought her to be lovely. Her whole being radiated strength, and determination. His leader was right, Syrenne could hold her own: be it from enemies or sickness. She had done so many times over the years they have known each other. He had made up his mind, he would not turn away from what slowly grew between them. One thing that's for sure though: he had a lot of making up to do. Gaining her would be the challenge of his life, and he would enjoy every step on the way. He would plant seeds where he could, while distracting her by making her mad with their usual teasing, as the seeds grow stronger.

''Oi Syrenne! Great timing, lass.'' Lowell spoke warmly, as he gestured for her to sit down. ''Care to help me finish this?''

Syrenne couldn't hide her surprise, as she slid down in the empty seat – eagerly accepting the cold beer, ''What's with the nice gesture and all? Have ye finally managed to drown that pea-brain of yours...''

''No, but I thought you were the perfect assistant for getting the job done,'' Lowell winked at her playfully. ''Joke aside, I just wanted to have a drink with my favourite partner in crime before hitting the sack.''

''Fine! I can do that...'' Syrenne grunted out, while looking down: succeeding in hiding her blush. ''Saves me coin too, since I had the same idea.''

Lowell smiled warmly at Syrenne's endearing shyness. He knew in his heart that: his decision to move on was right. He would no longer live between his past, filled with painful memories and is future. It was time to put the past where it belonged and focus on what can become his future.


End file.
